Virtuoso bassist Linda May Han Oh brought a group of top-flight musicians to the Reva and David Logan Center for the Arts tonight. The evening was divided into two parts. First, Oh debuted a commissioned piece entitled Mirrors and Shadows, which featured her and pianist Fabian Almazan. Following the 35-minute performance, Oh discussed the piece and her approach to music with Travis A. Jackson, Associate Professor of Music and the Humanities at the University of Chicago. After a brief intermission, Oh returned to the stage with Almazan, drummer Dan Weiss, saxophonist Mark Turner, and vocalist Sara Serpa. The task at hand was to perform selections from Oh’s forthcoming album, The Glass Hours.

During the conversation between Oh and Jackson, we learned that Oh, an associate professor at Berklee College of Music, was influenced early on by Rage Against the Machine and the Red Hot Chilli Peppers. While I’m not casting aspersions on those early influences, Oh, whose first instrument was the bassoon, has certainly come a long way, following a different path. She also took time to explain that when she works with other musicians, such as Pat Metheny, Vijay Iyer, or Joe Lovano, she is required to build a foundation in support of what the others are playing—hold everything together—but that when she leads her own group, she is able to explore harmonics.

I had very different reactions to the duet and the ensemble performances. As for the duet: It was fantastic. As we learned during the discussion with Professor Jackson, the work was inspired by the story of Narcissus in Ovid’s Metamorphoses. Oh indicated that Narcissus invoked the infatuation of today’s youth with social media and images of themselves. While I always like to know the inspiration behind a piece of music, I generally don’t see the connection between the titles/inspirations and the sounds. The music exists on a non-verbal plane. That was certainly the case tonight, but maybe had I known the backstory first, I would have seen it unfold, as Oh and Almazan worked their magic.

At one point during the interplay between Oh and Almazan, Oh could be seen smiling, maybe even laughing. She told Jackson that at that point, Oh and Almazan almost got out of sync with each other, which Oh said could result in the whole performance going off the rails [my phrase]. According to her, if their timing was even an eighth note off, the performance was doomed. In other words, the duet was a tightrope walk with one musician standing on the other’s shoulders. Precarious, but thrilling.

Much of the pleasure from this piece came from its rich tonal qualities, particularly the ones that Almazon achieved while plucking the piano strings—prepared piano—resulting in vibrant soundscapes.

As noted, after the intermission, Oh brought all the musicians out. I must confess, I was disappointed by this half of the concert. The abundant talent on the stage did not shine. While undoubtedly some in the audience liked what they heard, the applause at the end of the concert was low key. The audience did not clamour for an encore, and none was provided. Perhaps more telling, my informal survey of a few friends revealed a similar reaction to this second part of the concert.

My problem was with the vocals. This was not the American Songbook or anything remotely like it. For the most part, Portuguese-born singer Serpa sang tones, rather than words, which explains why the Jazz Times characterized her as “a master of wordless landscapes.” To my ears, her vocals weighed the music down., which is a bit odd because the bass usually produces the lowest tones in an ensemble. At times, it was difficult to distinguish between Serpa and the notes coming from Turner’s saxophone, which I assume was intentional. At other points, I wondered whether the mix was muddled—usually the people working the Logan Center’s soundboard create outstandingly balanced mixes. I did not see Serpa or Oh signal to the person operating the soundboard that an adjustment was needed, so this is the mix they must have wanted.

Had I been Oh, I would have replaced Serpa with a flautist, such as Nicole Mitchell; at times, Serpa sounded as if she were imitating a flute’s timing (as opposed to its tonality). Mitchell would have not only have added lighter coloring to the overall mix, but would have sped up what was rather lugubrious pacing.

Turner is an accomplished saxophonist, so I was sorry to see him take a relatively minor role in the effort. Dan Weiss, another highly accomplished musician, kept up his end of the bargain. No bombastics.

Time will tell whether I am right or wrong. Glass Hours is scheduled for release in June. I look forward to the review that will inevitably appear in Downbeat. Given Oh’s talent and her standing in the jazz community, I most likely will prove to be the swine who didn’t realize that Oh and company were casting pearls.

One thing is for sure: Oh and Almazan should release an album of duets, including Mirrors and Shadows. Everybody I spoke with loved the first half of what one person dubbed the Tale of Two Concerts.

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